True Stories: Tales from a Compulsive Liar
by 24QueenMo
Summary: A Compulsive Liar is someone who lies with ease and finds comfort in it. Getting a compulsive liar to admit he or she lied is nearly impossible.
**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except a Breakfast Club teeshirt and the DVD.**

 **AN: This is my first Breakfast Club Fan-fic, so please forgive me if it's not great.**

 _True Stories: Tales from a Compulsive Liar_

 **Monday**

It was a dreary fall day. Over the weekend it rained and rained, ruining the beautiful colors of the season.

Through the window Allison could see more dark clouds coming-more darkness entering her life.

"Miss Reynolds!" a voice snapped.

Allison looked up to see her history teacher, Miss Miller, annoyed.

"Where's your homework?" Miss Miller asked.

Allison looked down on floor. Not only was she the center of attention now, she had to admit to her dysfunctional life.

"I was at my dad and his wife this weekend, and I forgot to bring it. Anyway, my step-mother was having her baby shower and I had to help," Allison explain.

"Well, then. We can have a chat about your homework after. And congrats on the new brother or sister," said Miss Miller in her usually snappy tone-of-voice

"Thank you," she mumbled.

 **Tuesday**

Allison had few friends. Ok, maybe two "friends" along with a dozen imaginary ones.

"Allison, are you okay? You 'forgot' your lunch two days in a row," said Jenna.

Allison glared at Jenna, hissing, "I told why already. My mother's a lunatic."

"It doesn't even make sense though! Just because you didn't want dinner she's going to make you suffer for a week?"

"Yeah. . . ."

"Well, I have some extra cash, buy yourself something." Jenna handed Allison a five dollar bill.

"Thanks," said Allison, grabbing the money and stuffing it into her pocket.

"Alright, see yah at lunch!" Jenna called, running to get to her next class.

 **Wednesday**

Rumors started going around. Whispering and pointing. No one knew her name. It was, " _You know, the one with the short, dark hair?_ " with replies of, " _Oh, the one with dead look in her eyes? Yea, her name's like Ashley or something._ "

But who cared what her name was? All the school gossiped about was that Allison _must_ be homeless. Who wears the same David Bowie concert shirt with a black sweatshirt and jeans for three days in a row?

The Christians offered her places to stay, giving places and numbers of homeless shelters.

"Go to this place. You don't want to become a druggie prostitute," said a well-know preachy, Christian girl. "May God be with you, Alice." The girl smiled and walked away.

"Thanks . . . but no thanks," and Allison ripped up all the places and number, tossing them out. She could make it on her own. She didn't need help from others.

 **Thursday**

Between wearing the same clothes all week, bringing no lunch or having money for it, and the huge bruise on her left eye: Something was wrong with Allison Reynolds's world.

Teachers asked happened, Allison would snap, "It's private!" and wouldn't respond to anymore questions. Allison didn't even tell Jenna what happened and she told her . . . well, honestly, very little about her life (other then it sucked).

The only teacher to get more then "It's private!" was her art teacher. She only said, "Ask my father," and walked out of her favorite class, leaving the school to go to her happy place.

 **Friday**

Mrs. Reynolds was surprised to get a call from the school, asking her to come in. Yes, she should have called saying Allison was sick, but it slipped her mind.

Walking into the guidance counselor's office, she took a seat.

"Ms. Reynolds, I'd like to introduce myself, I'm Miss Franklin," the young-looking woman said.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Cecile Reynolds, Allison's mother. So why am I here today?" asked Mrs. Reynolds.

"We don't like to invade into people's personal life, but, um. . . ." Miss Franklin thought of how to tell this "mother" that her daughter is in trouble. "Well, you see, we're extremely worried about Allison and her home life," she blurted.

" _What are you talking about?_ " Mrs. Reynolds said, agape.

"According to teachers, she hasn't been doing her homework. I talked to a friend and your daughter hasn't brought lunch or had lunch money. And she's been wearing the same David Bowie shirt for days. Oh, and the bruise on her face, she hinted that her father gave her," Miss Franklin list. She was absolutely disgusted that Cecile was so out-of-tune with her daughter's life. "Plus, she failed to appear today."

Mrs. Reynolds let out a sigh of despair. "Allison, what am I going to do with you?"

 **Monday**

Allison left George Washington High School.

Even though Mrs. Reynolds had a excuse for everything, the school didn't believe it. Miss Franklin didn't believe the fact that Cecile Reynolds was sick in bed the past week and didn't know about her daughter's shenanigans.

Mrs. Reynolds tried to explain was sick and could barely think straight the last week. She thought Allison was old enough to take care of herself for a few days.

Mrs. Reynolds couldn't make her daughter lunch (but gave her money). The bruise was when Allison fell in the shower (her father was on a business trip all week). Plus she couldn't force her to change her clothes (she had plenty of other tee-shirts and jeans). And what the hell are they talking abou? A _pregnant stepmother!?_

Anyway, Allison was in 9th grade. She could take care of herself.

 **Tuesday**

The old shrink eyed her, asking again, "Why are you here today?"

Allison glared, snapping, "I'm a manic-depressive."

"Before you first said you were bipolar, then a nymphomaniac, and then you were suffering from schizophrenia. Which is it?"

"You want to know my problem? I hate you and I'm leaving!"

That was the first appointment with a long series of different psychiatrists and social workers, trying to help Allison.

 **Wednesday**

Allison Reynolds began her first day at Shermer High School. And she hated it.

 **Saturday**

The month was March, and the day was the 24th. Allison told her mother she had detention because she skipped science. She told her new friends that it was because she was bored. The truth was she got caught stealing paintbrushes from the art room.

 **How horrible was it? Review and let me know. Thanks**


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